


Vengeance Is Mine

by Writer4Christ



Category: Underground (TV)
Genre: Death, F/M, Family, Marriage, Memories, Plantation, Slavery, life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8246461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer4Christ/pseuds/Writer4Christ
Summary: Ernestine is mentally broken after the death of her son, Sam. She takes matters into her own hands to get justice for his death.





	

Ernestine knew there was a God. Her mama used to tell her stories about the Israelites, people in bondage for over 400 years until God delivered them out of Egypt. Her mama told her their people were like the Israelites. They were going to be delivered and free one day.

However, there was one lesson in the scriptures her mama would say that stuck with her: Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.

She never knew what the verse meant until now.

Her mind, her body, her soul had been torn into a million pieces. Sam was dead, Rosalee was gone, and James was still working in the fields with little to no protection.

She, herself, spent three days in the hot box with too many thoughts running around in her head.

She had become complacent. She relied on her power far too long and it cost her dearly. Everything crumbled around her and she could not stop it. She had to make the difficult decisions to keep her family safe but it did not work. All of her hard work was for nothing.

At the end of the day, she was property to be wrangled whenever it suited the master.

She tried to think on happier times. A small smile crept on her face when she thought about her husband. She met French when she was 17 at a dance on the Wallis plantation. She could remember how handsome he looked in his Sunday’s best. He held a confidence she had never seen before in other men. He knew what he wanted in life and that intrigued her.

He wanted freedom. He wanted a family. He wanted a life of his choosing and he wasn’t going to let anyone deter him from his dreams.

She could remember how her heart raced when those brown eyes of his gazed at her. He looked at her with such intensity she knew no one else could replace him. She never pictured her life without him despite their circumstances. They were each other’s soulmate.

Another smile formed when she thought of Sam. She knew she was pregnant with her firstborn after six months of marriage and she wanted to surprise him with the news.

It was French’s birthday or what they thought was his birthday according to the people on his plantation when she told him the news.

I’m with child,“ she told him. Her eyes shone with excitement as she took his hand in hers and placed them on her stomach.

"Our baby French,” she said. “We’re having a baby.”

She remembered he didn’t say anything which confused her. He disconnected himself from her and walked out the door without saying goodbye.

She ran to the door calling his name but he refused to come back. He returned some time later and she was ticked off.

She sat on the edge of their bed ready for an argument. She had prepared all the reasons why his reaction hurt her but those sentiments died on her lips when she saw his face.

His eyes were red as if he had been crying hard. He looked weary and dare she say it, terrified.

French put his head in her lap and whispered that he was sorry. She learned how fearful he was to be a father because he never knew his own. He was fearful that his child would look at him with shame because another man owned him and his mother, and he would grow up in a world with no rights.

He was scared he would lose them both. What if they were sold and he would never see them again?

Then he made her a promise to be there for them. He would protect them and love them until the day he died.

She told him he didn’t have to be scared. They were a team and they would survive. They were going to protect this child and any other children they had.

She would later realize in hindsight that things would change once Tom Hawkes arrived on the Macon plantation.

French had seen it first but Ernestine ignored the warnings. She was too content with her family and her life to see what was happening right in front of her.

Tom Hawkes wanted Ernestine for himself…husband or no husband.

She knew French would not stand by and watch for long. French, she realized, had been making plans to run. Nobody was touching one hair on his wife.

As soon as French started to make plans, she should have known his days were numbered. She remembered feeling a strange sensation days before his death.

He was up talking with Sam and he said, "Just because they think you are dumb doesn’t mean you have to be dumb."

She didn’t want to hear anymore.

“Sam, French, time for breakfast,” she urged. Sam went in the house first but French lingered at the entrance.

“We’re running Stine,” he whispered in her ear.

They talked in hushed tones that night careful not to wake Sam.

"We got to Ernestine,” he argued. “It’s the only way we can keep our family together.”

“But Sam-

"No. Sam is not going to be another’s man property for the rest of his life. He deserves better than this and so do we. I’ll make him understand why we have to run.”

French must have seen the apprehension on her face.

“I know you are scared. I am too but I promised to protect you and our son. Do you trust me?”

“You know I do,” Ernestine replied. She trusted this man with everything in her.

"Then trust me now.” He paused. “I need you to promise me that you will you always protect our Sam.”

“I promise.”

French died working in the fields four days later under mysterious circumstances.

Ernestine shivered. She tried to keep her promise but she should have done better by Sam. She treated him at arm’s length because he reminded her of French but also the scared version of herself.

She often wished she and French took off and risked it for freedom. If he saw her now what would he think of her.

“I’m so sorry,” she thought.

Afterwards she found herself in the clutches of Tom Hawkes. A position French knew could be possible and she often wished wasn’t.

Soon she realized she was pregnant with Rosalee and Tom had her moved into the house much to Suzanna’s chagrin and Sam got left behind. Sam would never know how much she tried to get him in the house.

But with Rosalee came power. Power over Tom and she knew then she had to be highly persuasive. She played her part well. She knew Tom didn’t truly love Suzanna and she was just a meal ticket but with her Tom cared. In turn, a part of her cared for him.

Now as she stood in the parlor with Tom and the reverend her blood boiled. The reverend was responsible for Sam’s death and Tom went along with it like it would not deeply affect her.

She hated them both.

Couldn’t Tom see that she was a human being? She was a person with thoughts, feelings and ideas. She wasn’t an animal. She wasn’t someone to service him whenever he got aroused. Without her, he would not be the man he was today.

And that despicable trash passing himself off as a man of God was the bane of her existence. He called her a Jezebel when he was the one who tried to murder her. He was bent on destroying her family. He should have been the one to die instead of her son.

The reverend couldn’t see that she had no choice. What was she supposed to do? A woman in her position couldn’t just say no to her master.

They were so blinded by their privilege it sickened her.

“Let the Lord fight your battles baby,” she could hear her mother’s voice in her head.

“Not today mama. Forgive me.”

The men were discussing their next strategy for his election. Tom was way too excited for her liking while the reverend was too calm periodically glancing at her to see if she would interfere. She barely registered the reverend leaving.

“What do you think?” Tom asked as he went to his desk going over some papers.

“The plan seems just fine,” she answered simply.

He stopped and snapped his head up. “That’s all you have to say. No advice on if I should listen to the reverend.”

Ernestine squared her shoulders tightly biting her tongue. Listening to the reverend got them into this mess from the start.

“Yes sir. That’s all,” she replied. “May I be excused?”

She saw out of her peripheral vision he was coming closer with those contrite eyes.

“Stine, I know you are upset. I know Sam’s death is hard on you. It’s hard on me too. He was family.”

She blinked at his audacity. How dare he say such a thing? Sam was not his family. Sam was hers. It was all she had of a simpler time. It was all she had of French. Her sweet boy was dead because he allowed it. He lynched him like an animal to be displayed and mocked.

“Let me make it up to you. We can put this behind us and start over,” he said lovingly. At one time she would have given in but not now.

“May I be excused?” she asked politely holding her head down.

Tom touched her cheek. “No. I want to spend time with you. Just look at me. Please look at me,” he said softly grasping her chin but she jerked her head away.

“Stop,” she said.

He wouldn’t stop touching her. Her face, her hands, her body. He wouldn’t get off despite her pleas.

She reached for the platter on the stand and hit him across the head. He fell to the floor.

She gasped for air and stood against the table with trembling hands. What had she done?

“Massa?” she called out nervously.

No response.

She slowly went over to his prostrate body. “Tom.” She checked his pulse and that’s when Tom pulled her down by the wrist.

There was an anger in his eyes as he wrestled with her.

“You tried to kill me,” he said incensed. “After all I’ve done for you! I’ve taken care of you and those collection of bastards you have.”

Her eyes flashed with anger as well and she pushed him off of her and he banged his head against the base of the desk.

She struggled to reach for the platter on the carpet and held it in her hands.

“You killed my son. You lynched him!” she yelled. “He wasn’t your family. He was mine!”

She hit him on the temple and he fell back with a resounding crack.

The crack didn’t seem to register to Ernestine. “You raped me!” She hit him in the face with the platter harder.

“You lied to me and I fell for your lies!” she yelled and hit him again.

“You stole my life and you owe me,” she said letting her anger overtake her and she hit him again and again until strength left her body.

Blood was splattered all over her face and clothes and for the first time she felt free.

She heaved as she leaned against the desk. A sharp cry left her body as the last twenty years of abuse, mental anguish and pain sprang forth.

“Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the lord,” she said to the four walls.

She shook her head. Today she took it for herself. She took it for her family.


End file.
